


The First Boy

by RadioActive



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Childhood Memories, Established Relationship, M/M, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6402307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioActive/pseuds/RadioActive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler winced as a floorboard creaked under his weight. That same floorboard had been the bane of my existence once, and I had learned to strategically step around it when sneaking back into my room past curfew. I told him so, and he grinned at me, maybe a little fondly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Boy

I hadn’t lived at home for years, and my parents had yet to clean out my childhood bedroom. My mom claimed it was too much of hassle to clean out all of the clutter, but I had a feeling she liked peeking into my room every once in a while, pretending she still had to head downstairs and pack me my favourite PB&J for lunch. I called it empty nest syndrome, she called me an asshole. 

“Well, this is my room,” I announced somewhat unnecessarily, stepping inside and turning to capture Tyler’s first impression. His eyes were immediately drawn to my favourite wall, covered in posters of hockey hall of famers and scantily clad girls alike. 

“Nice,” he commented with a smirk, and I liked him a lot. My room lacked space, but it did not lack taste.

Tyler winced as a floorboard creaked under his weight. That same floorboard had been the bane of my existence once, and I had learned to strategically step around it when sneaking back into my room past curfew. I told him so, and he grinned at me, maybe a little fondly. 

“Did you sneak out a lot?” He asked curiously, standing at the center of the room with a lost expression on his face. 

“It’s okay if you want to look around,” I said, approaching the window and drawing the blinds. “Not really. I was usually too scared to actually leave.”

“Were you too chicken?” Tyler chirped, as he sifted through the pile of CDs on my bedside table. “Hey, I used to listen to Green Day too. Man, I would listen to this on repeat when I got home from practice.”

“I guess. I was a good kid, you know? Didn’t like making my parents angry.” I couldn’t help the flutter I felt in my stomach, watching Tyler interact with what used to be my most prized possessions. Maybe they still were. The CD case was signed by the band, after all. 

“Sure. I definitely didn’t screw around with my billets.” Tyler looked up then, probably sensing my eyes on him. 

“What?” He added, sounding defensive. 

“It’s just weird having you in here,” Tyler started to frown before I could continue, “but I like it. I like seeing you in my room.”

“You mean your old room,” he corrected, the furrow in his brow disappearing as quickly as it appeared. 

“My old room,” I agreed, “and my new room.” The blush dusting his cheeks was worth the embarrassment I felt spouting a line that cheesy. 

“Come here,” he said as he reached out for my hand. His hands were a little smaller than mine, but his grip was strong. “That was so lame.”

“Well yeah, but I saw you blushing, don’t deny it.” He rolled his eyes, but tugged me to sit beside him on the bed, our hands resting on his knee. 

Faint beams of light escaped the blinds, illuminating his eyes but leaving the bottom half of his face in shadow. The music playing downstairs had transitioned into a soulful cover of some oldie I couldn’t remember the name of. It felt a little magical. 

“So did you bring lots of girls back here?” He asked slyly. Leave it to Tyler to ruin a moment, or whatever we were having. 

“No, actually. I thought about it, but I was always too shy to invite anyone up to my room.” Tyler must have heard the dejection in my voice, because he reached his free hand up to brush through my hair. 

“So I’m the first,” he paused, “boy.” His eyes were the warmest I’d ever seen them, but it was probably just the light making them glow.

“You are.” My gaze finally left his eyes, and I shifted close enough for my breath to ghost over his lips. “Can I make you my teenage dream tonight?”

“Jamie, god,” a surprised laugh escaped him, “why do you have to ruin every moment we have?”

We kissed the moment back into fruition.


End file.
